Superstitions
by death by storm
Summary: Canada gets a panicked call from his brother at four in the morning. Is the world ending? Nope, it's just Friday the thirteenth. Brotherly Canada/America. Slightly OOC and kinda cracky.


By semi popular demand, another Brotherly! America/Canada fic. As far as I know, this idea hasn't been done, but if it has, I'm sorry.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

It was four in the morning when Canada received the call.

"Mattie! Come quick and help the hero!"

Canada groaned. It wasn't even light out yet and he had only gotten to bed a couple of hours ago; the time when he had finally finished his paperwork.

"What's it?" he slurred.

"I'm at my New York home! It's an emergency. Please," Alfred begged.

"Wait a minute. You didn't try to watch a scary movie by yourself like you did the last time you called and said it was an emergency, did you?"

"No, I didn't. I swear. It's way worse than that! There's no time to explain, just help me!" A muffled shriek came over the speaker and the line went dead. Canada was left to staring at his cellphone, now worried.

"Well, fuck," he muttered.

"Who?"

"Canada, Kumachiko and you're coming with me. This is an emergency."

At this point, if Matthew had taken a moment to glance at his calender, he would have saved himself a world of pain. The following date was circled in red. Friday the thirteenth. While not a superstitious nation by heart, Matthew tended to go out of his way to avoid America and England both on this day, because where one was, the other was as well. And to be frank, both drove him nuts on this day. Alfred because he jumped at his own shadow and Arthur because he and Alfred would end up in a loud fight by the end of it.

As it was, Matthew stumbled around in the dark and eventually managed to get dressed. He grabbed Kumaju, who had fallen asleep once again on the end of his bed. He ran out of the house and opened his car door. He tossed his oldest friend onto the passenger's side and slid in behind the wheel.

The tires screeched as he backed out of his driveway and barrelled down the road to the Canada-US border. The border guard barely looked up from his newspaper as the harried nation flashed his driver's license and drove through.

Matthew found himself on his brother's doorstep just as the sun's rays began to break over the horizon. He glanced up to find the house completely dark.

"Al?" He knocked on the door.

The door opened with a bang and Matthew suddenly found himself with an armful of quivering America.

"You weren't attacked again, were you?" Matthew returned the hug and began to guide them both inside.

"N-no," came the muffled response. "I called you here to protect you."

Matthew and Alfred both stumbled onto the couch.

"Protect me from what?" Canada frowned.

"The worst day of the year. It's Friday the thirteenth."

"Wh- I thought you usually spent this day with England."

"Heh heh. I kinda pissed him off again," Alfred replied sheepishly.

Matthew glared at him. A creak sounded somewhere in the house. Alfred let out a shriek and dove underneath the blanket and began to tremble. Matthew's anger melted at the sight and he sighed.

"Would you like me to make you some pancakes?"

Alfred peeked out from under the blanket and nodded eagerly.

Matthew went into the kitchen which was actually spotless, except for all of the McDonald's bags lying about. He opened the cupboards and frowned. There was no flour. He glanced in the fridge to find that there was no milk.

"Al, you have no food," Matthew walked into the living room and peeked under the blanket that held his brother. "We need to go to the store."

"Can't we just not eat today?"

"You're... kidding right?"

"It's too dangerous out there," Alfred paused. "For you, I mean."

"America." Alfred flinched at the use of his formal name. "I have been up since four in the morning thanks to a phone call from you about an emergency that wasn't really an emergency. I thought you were under attack or something! I have not eaten anything all day. Kumachiko hasn't eaten yet either. I am not going to let him suffer because you are scared. I'll go to the store myself."

Matthew turned on his heel and stalked out the door. Alfred just sat there with his jaw hanging open. Then he realized that he would be there alone. On Friday the thirteenth. He threw the blanket aside and raced out the door after his brother.

"Wait for me Mattie! Don't leave me alo- I mean someone has to protect you!"

Matthew had just reached the car when he was knocked down by the terrified American. "Alfred?"

Alfred got up and helped Matthew to his feet and then froze. "Mattie, you can't use the car."

"What? Why?"

Alfred silently raised a hand and pointed at the side mirror as if it was too horrifying to speak of out loud. Matthew looked at it. Sure enough there was a hairline fracture near the corner of it.

"You're going to have seven years' bad luck, Mattie. We can't use the car," Alfred said slowly.

"Al," Matthew face palmed and tried his best to remain polite. "Alright. What do you suggest then?"

"We'll walk to the store. Onward!" Alfred took off at a march.

They walked in amicable silence for a short time. If, by amicable silence one meant that Matthew was muttering under his breath and Alfred was glancing from side to side with a panicked look in his eyes. Alfred's eyes widened and he froze.

Matthew stopped as well. "What?" He glanced down to see that Alfred had stepped on a crack in the sidewalk.

"Step on a crack, you break your mother's back," Alfred mumbled and then burst into tears. "I'm sorry, England!"

"Arthur isn't your mother."

Alfred sniffled. "No. But he's the closest thing to it. He must be in so much pain right now and it's all my fault."

Matthew rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell. "Here. Call him. I'm sure that he's fine."

Alfred took the phone and dialled. "E-England?"

"Alfred? Why are you calling me now? You know that I'm in the middle of an important meeting and give your brother his phone back!"

"You're okay, right?"

"I'm fine, you git."

"Okay. 'Bye then," Alfred chirped and hung up the phone before Arthur could reply. He looked at Matthew. "Maybe it has a delayed reaction?"

"I doubt it," Matthew said. "How much farther are we from the store?"

"A couple of minutes," Alfred said before they lapsed into silence once more.

"You aren't going to freak out over something there, are you?"

"Nope."

Matthew raised an eyebrow at him.

"I mean it, Mattie. Look there's the store now," Alfred raced ahead and entered the store.

"Stupid fucker," Matthew muttered. Seriously, how did he always get sucked into situations like this? Even when he did protest out loud, America always ignored him and managed to drag him into the most ridiculous scenarios. Did he have a sign on his forehead saying 'Feel free to walk all over me?'

There was an intake of breath behind him. He turned and saw a middle aged woman glaring at him. Her hands were over the ears of her son, who was struggling a little bit.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I said 'sucker'." He smiled, but the lady just huffed and stormed off, confused child in tow.

The doors chimed as he entered the store. It was still relatively early so there were only a few shoppers. Matthew glanced around and saw that Alfred wasn't in sight. He shrugged, figuring that he would find his brother eventually and grabbed a basket. Matthew let himself wander the aisles and was indeed able to locate the ingredients for pancakes, but not his brother.

"Al?"

"Over here, Mattie!"

The nation of Canada turned the corner to discover a small construction zone. Apparently the store was undergoing renovations.

"Are you supposed to be in here?"

"No, but I saw something in the aisle that I wanted." Alfred dropped a packet of chocolate chips in the basket and stepped out towards the checkout. "C'mon Mattie. Those pancakes aren't gonna cook themselves."

Matthew's eye twitched, but he stepped over the construction equipment and headed towards his brother, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet with impatience. A lady turned in with her buggy and stopped right before the end of the aisle where a ladder was leaning up against the wall. Oblivious to the fact that she was now blocking the aisle, she perused the many different bulk items on the shelves in front of her.

Swallowing his frustration, Matthew asked politely for her to move. The woman didn't acknowledge him.

"Excuse me!" he all but yelled. At least it sounded like yelling to him. The common ear, however, would have heard it as a whisper.

The lady, once again, didn't respond. Matthew sighed and just went around her and tried to walk under the ladder. Key word being tried.

"No!" Matthew immediately found himself on the floor, with broken egg in his hair and a panicked American nation on top of him.

"A-Al?"

"The ladder!"

"You went underneath it too," Matthew replied dazedly.

"Oh my God you're right!" Alfred yelped. "We're both gonna die!"

Matthew hauled himself to his feet muttering to himself. "You mean you're going to die. By my hand."

"What?"

"I said that we should clean this mess up first," Matthew said.

There was a dangerous twitch to his smile that made Alfred quickly obey.

It was long past noon by the time that they finally returned to Alfred's home. Matthew sighed in relief as the door opened. Finally, they were back. Hopefully the rest of the day would be relatively peaceful, and he could get some sleep.

Matthew made a beeline for the kitchen and plunked the groceries on the counter. He called Kumajiji over and gave the bear the salmon that he had bought for him. He felt a jaw cracking yawn overtake him as he pulled out the appropriate bowl for mixing pancake batter and proceeded to whip up a huge batch of the delicious cakes.

It is past two when they finish cleaning up and settle down to watch one of Alfred's movies. By three, Matthew had passed out completely, head lolling against his brother's shoulder.

"Aaah! It's a black cat!" Once again, Matthew was roused from sleep by Alfred's yelp of terror. As he sat up on the couch, the blanket, which had been pulled up snugly to his shoulders, slid off of him. He grabbed his glasses off of the coffee table and stumbled to his feet.

"Alfred?"

"Upstairs. Come quickly!"

Matthew looked out the window and noted that it was dark out. Exactly how long had he been asleep for? He turned the corner and came into the hallway that held the guestrooms for this particular house to find Alfred huddled in the corner shaking. A few metres down the hall, the 'cat' was sitting in the middle of the hall. It was only then that Matthew saw the smudged, black paw prints leading up to the menace.

"Who?"

Matthew just rolled his eyes. "Kumaroo, did you get into some paint?"

"Yes."

"See, Alfred? It's just Kumachiko," Matthew's shoulders slumped. "And now I have to bath him. Do you mind?..."

Alfred mutely shook his head and got to his feet. Determined not to be separated from his brother, he followed Matthew into the nearest washroom and watched, as his twin painstakingly removed every bit of dirt that was on his beloved polar bear.

When he was done, Matthew sighed in relief. "Hopefully, that's the last thing that goes wrong today."

He glanced around the washroom frantically, before finding a spotting a large wooden support pillar. Curling his fingers into a fist, he rapped on the wood twice. Feeling as if he had warded off an impending doom, Matthew relaxed slightly. He set Kuma on the floor and his friend wandered out of the room, probably in search of the room that Matthew used every time that he visited Alfred.

He heard a snigger from behind him, which soon turned to full blown laughter.

Matthew's eye twitched. "What is it?"

"You know that doesn't work, don't you?" Alfred asked. "You know, knocking on wood? England does it all the time."

"..." Matthew's eyes narrowed. He knew himself that it was just a superstition. He... just felt more comfortable if he did knock on wood. After all with a brother like Alfred, Matthew knew that he could always use more luck. And why was it that Alfred got to laugh at him when his brother went to tears over anything that might be considered superstitious?

Alfred stopped laughing when he saw a gleam shining in his brother's eye and began to slowly back out of the bathroom. "N-now Mattie, let's be reasonable."

Canada charged with the full intention of throttling his brother. Alfred fled down the hall and tripped down the stairs. Matthew slid down the banister to cut off his escape.

"Ah don't kill me!" America yelped.

Matthew let out a dark chuckle. "Why would I kill you, when I can make your life miserable? That's a hell of a lot more satisfying. I happen to know Arthur's scone recipe and how to make it exactly like him."

"I'll run away," Alfred threatened.

"Not on this day you won't. You and I both know it."

"I'll tell Mom!" America yelped.

"Go ahead. I'm sure he will be delighted to know that I made you eat 'proper English food'," Matthew laughed cheerily as he made his way to the kitchen.

At the base of the staircase, Alfred trembled.

* * *

Ack! This was supposed to end cutely instead of turning into crack. Ah, well basically I thought that if in canon America can only see fairies on Hallowe'en, then it would be fun to make him believe in superstitions only on Friday the 13th.

Thoughts?


End file.
